Days, I stop existing

You know those days of misery where I think of being unborn,

Not treading across the paths and words I have till today,

But that’s not how it’s meant to be,

I was supposed to be born.


Now I am here,

And my life is in shambles,

I’ve lost a love and aged in my memories,

I cripple past the present days,

Picking myself up,

Wondering how my mind had wandered a thousand years from the last time I felt joy.


Soaking friendship

Remember when I was roaming the streets of London in late hours of the night and your text would pop up on my old blackberry phone?

I’d sift through all the messages and decide to reply to it later when I reached my warm room and single bed. I’d flaunt to the world how you were my best friend. I’d complain and rant in our conversations about how the world should revolve around you.

I thought we were such fun friends. Things were so exciting and easy.

I’d receive your messages when you were high on smoking God knows what. I was usually at the library during those rainy nights trying to read for an essay. The distance of our friendship didn’t cease your uninterrupted demeanour which was so intensely beautiful.

When you laughed while we were texting, I can recreate a visual image of how perfect you must have looked.

But now I don’t soak in rainy nights, instead I’m drenched in my own tears and the reality of heartbreak.

I cry, because I believed my best friend and his promises.



It wasn’t meant to be like this. This isn’t how I pictured it in my head. Things were meant to be calm and sorted, happy and exciting.

Then why does it feel like I’m coming to an end? Why does it feel like my passion for life is dying away?

You and I were supposed to make life easier. That’s what you told me in the beginning. I believed you. Every time you told me that things will eventually make sense. You paved your way through regardless of all the protests of logic and rationale I threw your way.

That’s what caught my entirety, that’s when I thought you would be standing by me all the time. I knew how to be by myself, I knew what it was like to live alone and be happy. But you promised that together we could create something magical in this mundane world.

I believed you.

Tonight I’m staring at the screen and typing in all these words. I’m thinking back to that moment when I held onto those words. Tonight I feel naive. Tonight I feel like those promises only lived in words and not in this world. I know you try. I know you do. But when I need you the most, you disappear, only to make yourself visible when I’ve picked up my pieces and cleaned the mess.

But you have pushed me off the edge now, and I have given you so much of myself that I’ve started forgetting who I am.